Misplaced Hands: 4 (Foreign Affairs) (5 page)

“So who’s going to try to kiss me first?”

“That’ll be me.” Keith’s voice cut through Marc’s shock at Harper’s unexpected question.

Before Marc could utter a word, Keith spun on his heel, destroyed the distance between the foot of the bed and the American, wrapped one arm around her waist and hauled her against his body.

He cupped her jaw in his free hand, traced her bottom lip with the pad of his thumb and then, as Harper gazed up at him—an expression close to amazement on her face—lowered his head and claimed her mouth.

Raw lust detonated in Marc at the sight of his best mate kissing the towel-clad woman. Hot and absolute. He bit back a groan, a surge of liquid steel flooding into his cock. His reaction stunned him. Left him reeling.

He’d seen Blue kiss more than one woman, but there was something about the sight of him kissing
this
woman that was so fucking hot to watch.

What did that mean?

Harper’s soft whimper sent fresh heat to his dick. Eyes closed, she leaned into Keith’s embrace, and Marc couldn’t miss the roll of her hips. Nestling her sex closer to his best mate’s groin.

Keith groaned, his hand bunching the towel at the small of her back, his other skimming down the column of her throat, over her bare shoulder, down the curve of her breast trapped beneath pink cotton.

Marc swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. Holy. Fuck.

Harper whimpered again, snaking her arms up around Keith’s shoulders, her hands burying in his hair at this nape. It sent his hat tumbling off his head to fall at his feet.

It also broke the concentrated rapture of the moment. Keith burst out laughing against Harper’s mouth, his chuckles echoed by hers as he stumbled back a step.

“How was that?” he asked, bending at the waist to scoop his hat from the floor.

“That was,” Harper cleared her throat, flicking Marc a look, “not at all what I was expecting.”

“That good, ’eh?” Keith placed his hat back on, a crooked grin on his lips. Lips still glistening from the kiss. He slid his stare to Marc for a heartbeat, and if Marc hadn’t known him so well, he would have missed the expression in his eyes.

Hunger.

Marc’s already racing heart beat faster.

He’d never seen that look in Keith’s eyes after a mere kiss.

Ever.

“So who
is
the boss then?” Harper looked up from tidying the small collection of art supplies she’d been using during her first day teaching the Farpoint class, giving Annie Prince a frown. “I’ve heard the cowboys call Mrs. Sullivan ‘boss’, Hunter ‘boss’ and the brother who’s not here—what’s his name…Dylan—‘boss’. Which one is it?”

Annie laughed. “Don’t call them cowboys. They don’t like that.” She plucked a paintbrush from the long table the students had been sitting at during their craft time and fanned its bristles with her thumb. “Technically I guess it’s Hunter and Dylan.”

Harper still couldn’t believe she was in Annie Prince’s presence. Talking to her. The daughter of one of America’s richest men. While in
Australia
.

“But when it comes to the last word on Farpoint, no one, not even the brothers, are going to argue with Hazel.”

Harper narrowed her eyes, contemplated what Annie said and then scooped up the postcards and travel pamphlets of the U.S. she’d had the small group of children cutting from. “So Hazel tells Hunter and Dylan what to do and they do it? Is that how it works?”

“No. Hunter runs the business side of the station, the money side, the paperwork, and Dylan does the sweaty work. He’s in charge of the jackaroos, jillaroos and hired hands. Hazel lords over them as only a mother can. She knows
they
know how to run Farpoint, but she likes to keep them on their toes. And the hands call her ‘boss’ because she’s their bosses’ boss. Make sense?”

Harper chuckled. “I think so.”

Annie replaced the paintbrush and plucked a roll of tape from the table. “I have to say, it’s great to hear another American accent again. I didn’t realize how much I’d miss Monet until she left. How are you settling in? Is everyone being nice to you?”

“Everyone is amazing.” Harper dropped herself onto the chair opposite Annie. “And the children in the class are so cool. It still messes with my head I’m teaching in a classroom on a ranch.”

“Station,” Annie corrected.

“Station,” Harper echoed, smacking her palm to her forehead. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be. It took me a while to get used to it as well.” Annie turned the tape in her fingers. To Harper, she looked very content. Relaxed. Nothing like the tense woman who used to grace the pages of the celebrity gossip magazines. “The Sullivans are big on family,” she went on. “Farpoint Creek is the only station in Australia—whether cattle or sheep—to keep the practice of a resident teacher alive. Dylan says it’s because their great-grandfather didn’t like the idea of his twin daughters going to a boarding school in Sydney and being seduced away from Farpoint by big-city boys.”

At the word “seduced”, Harper’s belly fluttered. Since Keith Munroe had kissed her two days ago, she’d spent too many moments fantasizing about being seduced by the gay cowboy and his partner.

She’d also fantasized about seducing
them
.

In those fantasies, instead of wrapping the towel around her body after finding them in her bedroom, she’d dropped it to her feet, smoothed her hands over her hips and made some intelligent, innuendo-heavy comment that made them both fall instantly in lust with her. After Keith kissed her—something that, in real life, was only spurred by his competition with Marc—his hands roamed her body, his worship joined by that of Marc, whose lips journeyed her throat, her breasts.

Then both cowboys removed their clothes and made love to her over and over again, bringing her to orgasm time and again with their hands and mouths and tongues and—

“Harper?”

Harper started, jerking her stare to Annie’s face. “I’m…I’m sorry,” she stammered, her cheeks filling with heat. “I wigged out a little. I think I must still be jetlagged.”

“I understand. I was exhausted my first few days here. It takes the body clock a while to adjust.” Annie’s smile turned to a smirk. “Plus you spent most of yesterday being pursued by one very persistent stockman, yes?”

Harper resisted the urge to fidget on her small seat. Ronnie McNamara had collected her from the cottage for breakfast yesterday morning a little after sunrise. She’d still been in her PJs when he’d knocked on the door, a bunch of pretty blue daisy-like flowers in his hand. He’d waited outside while she’d dressed and then driven her to the main homestead, pointing things out as they went. Leaving her at the homestead front door, he’d promised to collect her again for lunch, asking if she’d fancy a picnic. Annie had saved her from answering, the American heiress telling Ronnie that Hazel had already planned lunch.

But Harper had to give it to the man; he was tenacious. Rather than be dissuaded, he’d suggested a picnic
dinner
instead. “Nothin’ like eating under the stars in the Outback,” he’d said, offering to come get her from the cottage. “I’ll teach you how to make a bush-oven damper if you like.”

The picnic under the stars never eventuated. Hazel spent the day showing Harper everything she could around Farpoint, regaling her with utterly delightful tall tales about life on the station. It wasn’t until Harper was halfway through the most delicious roast beef dinner she’d ever eaten, her mouth full of tender meat smothered in rich brown gravy, that it dawned on her she hadn’t seen Ronnie.

With a guilty start, she’d mentioned it to those at the table. Annie had winked at Hunter, who’d scowled at his mother when Hazel proclaimed, “As if I’m going to let Ronald McNamara poison you with that gutrot he calls damper. Hell’s bells and buckets of blood, not even Dylan’s dog will eat it!”

Still, Ronnie had been waiting for Harper when dinner finished, removing his hat and smiling at her when she and Hazel exited the homestead. “I’ll take her back to Miss Wesson’s place, Mrs. Sullivan,” he’d said to Hazel. “I’ve got to check the fence line along the Kangaroo Creek track anyways.”

“How’s the cow you rescued from the billabong?” Hazel had asked, and Harper had been intrigued to see his face turn flame-red.

“It’s aw’right,” Ronnie had answered.

Hazel had narrowed her eyes. “How ’bout you go check on it? Just to be sure. I’ll drive Harper home.”

With a muttered, “Yes, ma’am,” the cowboy had climbed back into the same pickup in which he’d collected Harper from the airport and driven into the night.

“Those boys don’t know what they’ve done,” Hazel had muttered with a shake of her head before turning back to Harper. Harper wanted to ask which boys. For some reason, her pulse had started racing.

For some reason?
Harper fidgeted a little on her seat.
Huh, maybe it’s because the last two nights you couldn’t stop thinking about Keith Munroe and Marc Thompson.

“And,” Annie said, the word laced with good-natured humor, “he drove you here this morning, correct?”

Harper fiddled with the pile of postcards and pamphlets on her lap. “Yes, he did.” She didn’t add how disappointed she’d been to open the door and see Ronnie when she’d been hoping to find Keith and Marc. Annie didn’t need to know she was harboring pornographic fantasies about the two cowboys.

It also didn’t help she hadn’t seen either of them at all yesterday. It was as if, after the kiss from Keith, they’d run from her. Hell, they’d damn near sprinted from the cottage after it happened, Marc with a speculative look on his face and Keith with a hasty apology.

Maybe the kiss unsettled him? Maybe it really
did
make him wonder what it would be like to make love to a woman instead of—

“And I’ve lost you again, haven’t I?”

Harper blinked at Annie’s question. “I’m sorry. Truly.”

The heiress tilted her head. “Anything you want to talk about? I know how jarring it can be, being alone in a strange place.”

Harper shook her head. “Just feeling a tad out of sync. Does that make sense?”

“Absolutely. You’re in a different country, away from your family and friends, where the people seem to speak a different language despite the fact they’re speaking English. You’re allowed to feel out of sync. Have you spoken to anyone back home since getting here? That would help, I’m sure.”

Harper fought the guilty blush heating her cheeks again. “My brother doesn’t know I’m here. He’s what you’d call a bit overprotective.”
Ha, that’s an understatement.
“If I called him, he’d be on the first plane over here to drag my ass back…why are you laughing?”

Annie dropped her hand from her lips, her grin wide. “I’ll tell you one day. Promise. Suffice to say, your secret is safe with me. Does Amy know you’re here on a secret mission?”

“Hee! Secret mission, I like that. And yes, she does. I spoke to her last night and she promised she wouldn’t tell Andrew where I was.”

The eleven p.m. conversation had been an odd one. She was sure Amy wanted to tell her something important but hadn’t. And Harper had almost asked if Keith and Marc were gay, but she didn’t want to give away her lustful interest…in
both
of them. At the last moment, she’d bitten her tongue. Amy knew about Harper’s ménage fantasy, but surely she’d never expect her to fall for her best friends. How awkward would that confession be?

And by the way, Amy, I want to experience the ultimate female fantasy and bang both your sexy mates.

Too embarrassing to say out loud, even if it was true. Besides, Harper knew there was a lot more driving her desires than just sex.

I want to prove to Andrew I’m capable of looking after myself, even if having a threesome he’ll never, ever know about isn’t the way to do it. Just like taking off to Australia without his knowledge is teaching him a lesson?

Too close to the bone and probably too petulant was the real truth. The one she'd never speak aloud.

Because thanks to my fucking stepfather, I can’t trust anyone and I feel like I’m dying inside from not living my—

“Good for Amy.” Annie’s laugh cut the bleak thought short, a fact Harper was more than grateful for. Thoughts of her perverted stepfather only made her sick. “She’s a bit of a wild one but so much fun. I fear this trip may mean we lose her here at Farpoint, especially if she meets an equally adventurous American guy. I suspect Hazel thinks the same thing.”

“She loves it here,” Harper said. “I can’t imagine her anywhere else. She’s so vivacious. So…so…”

“Australian?” she offered. “I know the kids love her. She’s an amazing educator. She also keeps Blue and Thomo in line…most of the time. God knows what they’ll get up to while she’s away.” A curious frown pulled at Annie’s eyebrows. “Have you met Blue and Thomo yet? Keith Munroe and Marc Thompson?”

A vise wrapped around Harper’s chest. She stared at Annie, her lips tingling. “I have,” she answered, modulating her voice. She didn’t want Annie to know that at just the mention of their names her head exploded with debauched fantasies. “On Saturday. They seem friendly.”

“We
are
friendly.”